The Hetalia Advent
by 9LRCenturion
Summary: A short drabble series posted daily as a countdown to Christmas, much like an advent calendar. Each story will be holiday/Hetalia themed, and may contain different characters/pairings. Co-written with Wutaiflea.  Warning: May contain hints of yaoi.
1. The Surprise Visit

**A/N:** _This is a short drabble series that Wutaiflea (my co-writter of _Wartime Letters_) and I will be writing, as a sort of advent count down to Christmas. We we'll be posting a short, holiday themed drabble a day. I hope you guys enjoy. ^^_

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><p>It was snowing when England walked into his den, dressed in a warm robe and holding a cup of steaming tea. His day had not gone well, he was tired and frustrated, as well as another something that he couldn't quite place. Maybe it was because it was the holidays. Another year he would spend alone. He sighed and sunk into a chair by the fire, staring out the window.<p>

Not long after, the glare of yellow headlights gleamed through it, tracing strange patterns along the wall as it turned onto his drive, screeching to a halt when the vehicle came up as far as it could. A door slammed shut, a loud "DUDE. It's FREEZING here!" following shortly after.

England furrowed his brows and leaned forward, trying to get a better look at the lights, "Bloody faeries aren't toying with me, are they?" He quickly retracted that upon hearing the very American exclamations.

Another door slamming shut sounded before a combination of stomping through snow and the light jingling of small sleigh bells, the noise growing closer and closer until there was a loud bang on the door, causing the Briton scowled and set his cup on the table with a loud clink, stomping over to the front door and yanking it open.

"'SUP ENGLAND?" America all but shouted into his face, beaming brightly, nose and cheeks already red from the cold.

"What are you doing here?" England demanded, stepping aside to let him in

America took the chance, barreling his way in and heading straight for the living room where he knew there would be a burning fire. "Came ta see you! What else would I be doin' over here, dude?"

"I've no idea..." the blonde murmured, following the American and sitting back in his chair.

America rolled his eyes, dropping the brown sack he'd slung over his shoulder onto the ground before crouching down in front of the fire to warm his backside. "There ain't much else ta do in England, dude..."

England crossed his legs, shifting his hold on his teacup, "Then why did you come here?" He glanced to the bag, "and how long do you intend to stay?"

"I came ta see you!" he cried, popping back up onto his feet. "How come? Ya tired of me already?"

"You've never come over for the holidays..."

"'cause ya never wanted me here!"

"But of course I did, you muppet!" England snapped, standing up, "You were the bloody prat that never came over!"

"Why the hell would I come over if you told me not to?"

England, gave him a scowl and turned around, leaving the room, "You know where the damn guest room is."

America blinked after him, his heart sinking. "I brought presents!" he called after the British dude's retreating back.

Arthur paused and glanced back at him, "Presents?"

"Well... yeah... it's Christmas time..." he replied, giving England his signature kicked puppy-dog pout. The Englishman slowly moved over to him, wary.

"Its not Christmas yet..."

"Yeah? So? It ain't like I'll get ta see you then anyways." Alfred stated, plopping down on the sofa and making himself cozy in the quilt that hung over its back.

"W-why not?" England asked, setting the presents under the tree.

"'cause ya always make me leave ya alone on holidays, dude…" Alfred answered with a huff, restraining the urge to roll his eyes.

"Oh...yes..." He replied, shifting awkwardly.

Alfred grinned, sitting up and leaning forward. "'sides, I just wanted ta see ya~"

England sputtered, "W-what are you getting at, Jones?"

"What? Now THAT'S a bad thing too?"

"I-What? No! Just...oh sod it!" He huffed, sitting back down in his chair.

Alfred's face broke out in a huge, beaming smile. "Ha! I knew you'd totally be happy that I came!"

England grumbled, glaring into the fire while mentally wishing the redness in his cheeks would fade. But, it didn't go unnoticed as an eyebrow raised while Alfie tilted his head. "Dude... are ya blushing?

"No."

Alfred climbed to his feet, coming over and perching on the arm of Arthur's chair, poking his cheek. "DUDE! YOU TOTALLY ARE!"

The Englishman swatted at him, "Are not."

"Are tooooooooooo! Tell me why! Come ooooon England! Telll meeeeeee!" he pestered.

"Just bugger off!" Arthur snarled, shoving the American away and going to get a fresh cup of tea.

Alfred yelped as he tumbled backwards off of the chair, crashing into the side table and falling onto the ground, splinters of wood flying with him, as well as England's discarded teacup.

"Shit, Alfred! Are you okay?" England quickly walked around the chair, kneeling down by America.

Alfred blinked up at him, glasses hanging off of one ear, a dazed expression on his face. "...huh?"

"Are you alright, poppet?" the blonde asked, fixing Alfred's skewed glasses.

"head hurt..."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to fall..." Arthur said, stroking the Americans hair, who gave a small tremble, looking up at him with his deep blue eyes.

"I know..."

England stopped moving his hand and stepped away, "I'll get some ice..."

America reached up, catching his wrist. "Dude..."

"What?"

"...open one of yer presents?"

Two green eyes blinked at him, "Why?"

"'cause, I want ya to..."

"But it's not even Christmas eve..." England pointed out, going to get the ice.

"Sooooo? he whined, crawling over to the tree and picking up a little package.

England returned from the kitchen and sat down across from him, trading the ice for the present. "Oh alright..."

Alfred beamed, pressing the ice-pack to his forehead, practically squirming. "Come ooooon, duuuuuuude! Hurry up!"

"Don't be so impatient," Arthur scolded, slowly and carefully unwrapping the gift. Beneath the paper was a cedar box, inside which lay a beautiful, shining new silver pocket-watch.

"I heard ya complaining about how your old one broke at a meeting..." America explained, unnaturally nervous. "I had them make it just like it.. so that ya wind it up too!"

Arthur took it out silently, popping it open and winding it before catching sight of a small engraving on the inside cap that read _To England, Love America_, "Oh, Alfred..."

"Wh-what? Is there somethin' wrong with it?"

"No! No, not at all...I...I absolutely adore it, thank you..." Arthur stammered, giving the American a small smile.

Alfred immediately returned it with a bright, beaming face. "Really? I totally knew ya would!"

England ran his fingers over the clock face and looking down at it, "You know me so well...

"Well, ya ARE my best ally."

"Am I?" Arthur gave him a surprised look, "I thought...you and Israel..."

"Hmmm? Nah, you've always been my favorite..." he mumbled with a yawn, laying back on the sofa and conveniently pulling a throw pillow over his face.

Arthur blushed, raising a hand to cover his cheeks, "You! You bloody wanker!"

"How does that make me a whatever that is?"

"How can you say those kind of things with a straight face?" England cried, hiding under a quilt.

"What're ya talkin' about?" America demanded, sitting straight up and looking towards him.

"I thought you hated me! With the way you are always such a brat...It's ruddy confusing!"

"I ain't a brat!"

"So why am I your favorite?" He asked quietly.

"Why.. why do ya even gotta ask that?" he asked, quite surprised by the question.

"I want to know..."

"J-just 'cause you are!" he declared, his own cheeks beginning to turn a hinge of pink now.

England sighed and got up, tousling America's hair, "You've always been my favorite..."

"Yeah... but just a favorite..." Alfred muttered quietly.

"What's that mean?"

"Nothing!" Jones shouted, scrambling to his feet. "I'm gonna make some hot chocolate." he stated before bee lining it for the kitchen. Arthur gave him a helpless look before going over to the chair and sitting back down. Alfred came back in a short while later, sporting two mugs of steaming hot chocolate that were loaded with marshmallows and piled with whipped cream. "Here..." he said, going and sitting with both of them at the sofa, instead of delivering one of them to Arthur.

The Englishman walked over to him and sat down, close, "You made one for me?"

"Yeeeah, wasn't gonna make it for just me." he replied, handing Arthur his mug before draping a blanket over the two of took it with a smile, popping the lid of the watch open again.

"You really like it?" Alfred asked while taking a drink of his cocoa, succeeding in gaining a whipped cream mustache.

England glanced at him before snorting in amusement, "I do..."

"What's so funny?"

"You have some cream on your lip..."

"...I do?" he asked, immediately proceeding his best to try and lick it off.

England chuckled again and took Alfred's face in his hands, wiping the cream away with his thumb, "Silly lad..."

America blinked back at him, face growing warm beneath Arthur's fingertips. "I ain't a kid no more, dude..."

Then you are a silly man, "England countered.

A grin spread across the American's face. "I totally am~" he said, leaning just a little bit closer.

England glanced down at his lips, "I...think I missed a bit..."

"Ya did?" Alfred asked obliviously, wondering why Kirkland didn't just wipe of it then.

"Yes..." England murmured, wiping it away with a napkin.

"Hmmm..." Alfred said thoughtfully, eying his cup, trying to figure out a way to cleverly eat the whipped cream without smearing his face with it. "Ah, screw it." he stated, diving in and just eating it before licking his lips off. Arthur rolled his eyes, glancing at Alfred again before sipping at his drink and falling victim to the cream mustache.

Alfred leaned to the side a small bit, his arm squeezing between the cushions and Arthur's back, suddenly wrapping around his waist and drawing him to his side. Arthur's eyes widened as he looked over at the American whose eyes were focused straight ahead on a little dinosaur shaped speck on the opposing wall, a very concentrated expression on his profusely blushing face. The Englishman cleared his throat, drawing his knees up and curling his legs.

Alfred took a deep breath before turning to look at the nation that had raised him to become the mighty country he now was. "You've...got somethin' on yer lip..."

"Do I?" Arthur asked, lowering his cup and reaching for a napkin, but Alfred beat him to it, catching Arthur's chin in his free hand, turning it to face him. Arthur gave him an almost deer in the headlights look. America hesitated for a moment before swallowing hard and leaning forward, kissing the almost minuscule spot of cream off of Arthur's upper lip.

The Briton froze, as did the American before suddenly jerking away and drawing his arm back to himself, shrinking back into the corner of the sofa, an almost scared expression in his burning red face.

The shell-shocked England slowly raised a hand to his lips, before looking up at Alfred and reaching for his arm. He pulled the American back towards him, shyly leaning up and pecking his lips, "Stay for Christmas?"

Alfred blink at him in surprise before that charming grin that only a certain American could pull off spread across his face. "As long as we order burgers~"

England swatted him with a scoff, "Idiot…" before leaning his head on the blonde's shoulder.

Alfred just continued to grin, wrapping both of his arms around Arthur and snuggling up against him beneath the warm quilt while watching the snow fall outside the window...


	2. Barley

**A/N: **_This drabble was written solely by my dear Wutaiflea. Enjoy~_

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><p>Arthur Kirkland leaned back in his rocking chair, sipping at a glass of iced tea, no lemon. He wasn't overly fond of the drink, he preferred his tea hot, but in the South Dakota summer, anything iced was a gift from God. He payed no attention to the chair creaking beside him, as someone sat next to him, keeping his green eyes trained at the small child playing in the fields stretched out before him.<p>

"It was great of you to bring the little guy over," The voice to his left said quietly, as the wind rustled through golden locks of hair, "He's a good kid. I like having him."

Arthur hummed, finally giving his companion a glance, "Peter enjoys the American Midwest. So much land, so much DRY land, is uncommon in Britain, and he's fond of you, Alfred." He gave a small smile, "On our own, we don't get on well."

The American nodded, "How long do you have your brother for?"

"Only a few weeks or so, Tino and Berwald are on a romantic cruise. I'll have him again for Christmas..." Was the reply, as Arthur set his glass off to the side and looked out over the barley fields.

Alfred plucked off his hat and hung it on a nail sticking out of a weathered post. He turned to Arthur and offered a hand, "C'mon..."

The Englishman looked up at him, before huffing and taking the hand, allowing the farmer to lead him into the gold fields.

"How long is it since we met, Artie?" the American asked quietly.

Arthur tilted his head thoughtfully, "Almost ten years...we were children, you were on a foreign exchange program. Your first time seeing the big city...London... Christmas eve..." He chuckled, fondly. He held his other hand out to brush against the grain as they walked.

"It's been so long, and I don't feel so old," Alfred sighed, looking up at the sky and falling back into the barley, pulling Arthur down with him. Arthur let out an annoyed grunt as he fell into the American's arms. "I love you, Artie..." He said, quietly, with a broad grin, as he tangled a hand into the Briton's blonde hair.

Arthur smiled back at him, leaning down to kiss his love softly, "I loved you once, and I love you still, I always have, and I always will..."


	3. Coffee

**A/N:** _Today's drabble was written by myself... mainly on the bus between home and work... in unreadable handwriting. .;; Enjoy!_

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><p>Alfred leaned against the wall, looking out his dorm window and down to the boarding sidewalk. It was late November, and everybody had entered the Christmas frenzy. He sighed as he watched his fellow pupils shuffle through the impressive layer of leaves coating the ground, most walking arm-in-arm with their one another or hauling gigantic bags of merchandise to be stashed until the big day.<p>

"Where iiiiis heeee?" he groaned, throwing himself on his bed and hanging his head upside down over the edge.

After long last, the door _finally_ opened, revealing his British roommate.

"I really don't know what it is with you Americans and waiting until the final possible moment to do your shopping, Jones." He grumbled ill-temperedly.

"Dude! Where've ya been?" Alfred demanded, immediately bouncing up and to his feet.

"For your information, I have been at the library studying for exams, much like you should be." Arthur Kirkland stated, carefully setting his books into place on his desk. "And I don't see why that is any of your concern."

"I told ya that I was taking you out to Starbucks, remember?" he asked, retrieving the sweater that Arthur had just discarded and tugging it back over his head.

"A-Alfred! What the blazes are you doing?" Arthur cried, trying to work his arms through the sleeves.

"It's seriously cold out dude, you don't wanna get sick, do ya?"

Kirkland huffed, reaching up and uselessly trying to flatten his messy hair. "I'm perfectly fine with my tea, Jones." He stated flatly, pointing to his electric kettle while seating himself on the edge of his quilt covered bed.

Alfred's arm shot out, firmly catching hold of the other's wrist and eagerly pulling him back up. "Dude! Don't worry! They've got tea there! Let's get going! It'll be my treat!"

Arthur groaned as the American pulled him about, mentally calculating the positives and negatives of accompanying Alfred before releasing a heavy sigh."Very well, Jones…"

Alfred grinned broadly, snagging his old, ragged looking bomber jacket off of his bed and pulling it on. "Ready?" he asked excitedly, shoving his wallet into his back pocket.

"Jones, wait one moment… Let me change into my street clothes."

Alfred stared at him blankly.

"…what?"

"Dude… what the hell are street clothes?" This time, Arthur was the one to give the incredulous look, wondering if his roommate's stupidity was contagious.

"They're clothes that you wear when you go shopping, Alfred…"

"…That's a girl thing."

Arthur gasped, green eyes flashing. "Wanker! Are you trying to apply that I'm a woman?" he demanded mid-strip, turning his head to look at Alfred over his shoulder.

"Nooo, I just think that's a total girlie thing to do… Why can't ya just wear what you wore to the library?" Alfred asked, eyes glued to his friend's back.

"Because, those are my school clothes. It would be completely improper. And would you be so kind as to stop staring at me?"

Al huffed, pouting as his eyes shot to the ground, face turning a bright shade of scarlet. "Still dun see the difference…" he mumbled, wondering how English people came up with such strange, stupid customs. He didn't look up again until Arthur sat down on the bed, pulling on his shoes. "….dude…."

"….Yes?"

"….you're wearing the same exact thing… just in different colours…" he commented, blinking.

Kirkland huffed, tying the laces. "As you previously said, it's cold out. This keeps me warm."

"You're wearing a sweater vest…" he replied, a teasing grin slowly spreading across his face.

"THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH SWEATER VESTS, YOU GIT!"

"I never said there waaaas~" Alfie sang, leaning back against the door. "Just talk about White and Nerdy~"

"Excuse me?"

Al groaned, rolling his eyes. "Noooothing, it's just an American song, dude… Remind me ta show it to you later…"

…..

Forty-five minutes later found the pair of them at their local Starbucks. Arthur had suggested visiting the one on campus, but Alfred had insisted that the one in town was much more 'awesome' and made better drinks than the other, forcing Arthur to give in and join Alfred for the long walk.

"Bloody…git. You didn't tell me… it was this far away!" he complained, sitting down at a table as Alfred stared up at the menu board.

"Duuude, you seriously need ta spend less time studyin' and more time at the gym."

"And fail my exams like you? I think not!"

"Dude! I totally aced my math and science finals!"

"And barely passed your literature classes."  
>Alfred huffed, jamming his hands into his pockets. "'sides, ya can still workout and have plenty of time to study!"<p>

"Give me two good reasons, Jones."

"Ya won't be outta shape like you obviously are, and you're always complaining about not having a girlfriend… the chicks at the gym would be all over ya…"

"If that were the case, then why don't you have a girlfriend?" the self-proclaimed English gentleman demanded.

Alfred's kidding expression was wiped blank and he just stared ahead for a moment. "they try, Dude…."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "If that was true, then why aren't you dating them? An American bloke like you would be all over them, I'm certain."

A glare was shot in his direction, a look of pain deep in those bright blue spheres. "Not all Americans are like that, dude. What? Are all of you people from England perverts? Bad cooks? Got crooked teeth?"  
>"Tch, wanker." Arthur snapped back. "Then tell me why you don't accept their advances."<p>

"'cause none of them can amount up to the person I_ do_ want!." He barked in reply, voice cracking as he turned back towards the counter, the entirety of his face, ears, and neck burning a brilliant red colour.

"…." Arthur blinked in surprise, unable to think of a response, wondering why the bloody hell he could feel his _own_ cheeks growing warm. "Alfred…"

Alfred just shook his head, stepping forward to order their drinks before moving to the opposing side of the store in order wait for them to be made.

Kirkland sighed, rubbing his temples. "You're a downright bloody git, Jones…" he mumbled looking across at him. "….no… a downright bloody amazing git… how did I only just now realize that you…?"

The 'amazing (and heroic) git' returned about five minutes later carrying two venti sized drinks, and smiling brightly, trying to act as if nothing had happened although it was painfully obvious that there was still something bothering him.

"Ya like Earl Grey, right? That's what you're always drinking at home so I figured that I'd get it for ya."

"Yes, that's perfectly fine, Alfred…" Arthur said, drawing the cup towards him and pulling the lid off, blowing on the steaming liquid. "What did you get this time?"

"Huh? Oh! I got the peppermint mocha!"

"Hmmm…" Arthur picked up the string attached to his teabag, swirling it around in his drink while glancing over at Alfred's hand that was set on the table. He sighed inwardly, hoping that he was correct as he reached forward, laying it over Alfred's. "Were you aware, that if you drink more than four liters of Earl Grey in one day, you're very likely to get terrible stomach pains?"

Only silence answered Arthur's nervous comment, forcing him to finally look up to see that Alfred was just staring at their hands, glasses practically falling off of his nose.

"Alfred?"

"You…"

"I?"

"Your hand… it's… i-it's on mine…"  
>"Would you rather I moved it?"<p>

"No!"

Arthur laughed as Al turned his hand over, slipping his fingers between Arthur's thinner ones. "You should have told me…"

"Didn't wanna scare ya off…" Alfred mumbled, much shier than one would think in this sort of situation.

"You needn't worry…"

"Let's go for a walk." Alfred stated, standing straight up and pulling Arthur upright after him.

"Slow down! My tea!" Arthur cried as he almost upturned the cup into his lap.

Alfred waited only a moment more before dragging Arthur out the door, refusing to let go of his hand. He finally slowed his walk into a comfortably slow pace as they entered a park, keeping his place close against Arthur's side.

"Artie!" he suddenly cried, looking up into the sky.  
>"What is it?"<p>

"The first snow of the year!" Within minutes, the occasional flake of snow that could be spotted hat turned into a downright flurry of snowflakes, gently floating down from the heavens above.

Arthur laughed, leaning over and kissing Alfred's cheek while squeezing his hand. "Let's go home, love…"

Alfred blinked at him before beaming brightly, shoving their combination of hands into his pocket. "Whatever ya wanna do, Artie~"


	4. Shopping in Florence

**A/N:**_ This short features Antonio Carriedo and Romano Vargas, written by yours-truly and Wutaiflea~_

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><p>Antonio Carriedo came floating into his brightly coloured house one morning, green robe wrapped around his slender frame and a hot cup of coffee in his hand. "Loooooovi~" he called, practically singing the boy's name.<p>

The said boy gave him a venomous look, from where he sat at the table, pouring his third cup of espresso from the Moka pot, "Bongiorno bastardo pomodoro, what the hell do you want?"

"Mi amor, is that anyway to greet me?~" Tonio cooed, seating himself across from the Italian.

"Fottere via," Lovino scowled, sipping at his coffee. This rude statement somehow seemed to delight the happy Spaniard, causing him to grin more broadly, the light dancing on his green eyes.

"We're going shopping today!~" he declared.

"What for?"

"Navidad!" he proclaimed, reaching over and plucking Lovino's cup from his hand, taking a drink.

"Idiota, it's only September," the Italian reminded, snatching his coffee back.

"But, mi amor! It's the perfect time to begin!" he cried, reaching over and tugging on Lovi's stray curl. "We must begin as quickly as possible!"

"fkjsdasdlf, idiota, get the hell off! I'll kill you!" Lovino screamed, head butting the Spaniard.

Antionio just laughed, ruffling the boy's hair. "Mi amigo, go bathe. We'll be leaving soon~"

The redhead pushed him away and finished his coffee before stomping off in his tomato patterned pajamas while muttering curses under his breath. "Cosa tempo?"

Tonio's eyes followed him, almost as if they were laughing at the little tomatoes. "You're so cute!" he suddenly squealed, rushing over and scooping up the angry boy, cuddling him close and littering his cheeks with kisses. "As soon as you're cleeeean~"

"Let go, stronzo!" Lovino shrieked, smacking him again.

"Whhhhhy? Mi tomate pequeño is so cute pretending that he doesn't like it!~"

"Shut up! Let me go!" The Italian yelled.

"Not until you ask boss niiiiicelllllly~" Tonio cooed.

"Screw you, Antonio!" Lovino snapped, squirming away from the Spanish man. This had the reverse effect on Antonio though, simply causing him to laugh more loudly and he pushed his little friend into the direction of the master bathroom. "Hurry up, mi tomate~"

Lovino disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Antonio to his own devices. But, shortly after, Tonio glided right on into the bathroom, striding past (and ignoring) Lovino in the bathtub, and taking custody of the large shower.

Lovino glared at him, "Bastard."

"Did you say something?" Antonio sang to him, hot steaming issuing out from the shower, immediately fogging up its glass walls.

Lovino huffed and got up out of his bath, wrapping a towel around himself. Tonio broke out into a loud, happy Spanish song as he scrubbed himself off.

"Idiota..." The italian mumbled, leaving the bathroom to change into a silk red shirt and tailored trousers. "Antonio! Where are my brown shoes?"

"In your closeeet!~"

"Where?"

Tonio came striding in, a towel wrapped low around his waist as he drew the doors open. "On the shoe shelf, mi amor tonto."

"Oh..." Lovino muttered, reaching up and pulling the leather shoes from the shelf. He walked over to the bed and sat down, pulling the shoes over his silk socks and tying them tightly.

The Spaniard vanished into the master bedroom momentarily, coming back shortly after in a loose white shirt, over which he wore a green vest, and brown pants.

"Hey...bastardo...where are we going?" Lovino asked.

"Ponte Vecchio!"

Lovino leaned forward, "What for?"

"Shopping!"

"Fine..." was the unenthused reply, "As long as we get some gelato..."

"Of course! Anything for mi tomate pequeño!"

"Shut up, coglione!"

Antonio simply grinned, leaning down and kissing the Italian's forehead before waltzing off to his room to fetch his own shoes. Lovino scowled and pulled on a soft leather jacket, walking over to stand by the door and pick up the keys, because God knows, Antonio would forget them.

Tonio floated back into the main room and straight out the door, reaching for Lovino's hand and pulling him to his car.

"Bastardo, we can walk there! There's no need to drive around Firenze in a malledete macchina!" The Italian yelled, yanking the Spaniard away from the car.

Antonio huffed, patting his pockets for his keys. "But I just got a new keychain that I wanted to uuuuse." he whined.

"Get over it," The Italian snarled, not releasing the brunette's hand as he stomped across the piazza.

"But it looks like a tomate pequeño mono and it's fun to uuuuse!"

"No," Lovino deadpanned, turning a corner.

Tonio pouted, swinging their arms between them, raising his face happily to the bright sun as the Italian walked beside him, pausing every now and again to poke his head into a shop.

"Do you see anything that you want, mi amor?"

"Si..." Lovino said quietly, dropping Antonio's hand and walking into a small bookshop. Tonio pouted profusely when Lovino let go, following him inside but immediately becoming distracted by some colourful wind chimes that hung in a window.

Meanwhile, the redhead continued his trek further into the shop, sending a sweet smile to the elderly lady by the register. He ran his fingers over some books lining the shelves and pulled an old, leather bound one down, "..._La Sacra Bibbia_..."

The Spaniard finally found his way back to Lovino, carrying three of the wind chimes in his hands. "Mi amigo, what have you got there?"

Lovino showed it to him, "Buy it for me."

"Say por favoooor~"

"Per favore, stronzo."

"Give boss a kiiiss~"

"No."

Antonio released a heavy sigh. "Then... I guess I don't need to buy it..."

"Spagna!"

The Spanish man just grinned, leaning forward and tapping his cheek, green eyes dancing with humor.

Lovino glared at him, fighting down a blush, "Bastardo pomodoro..."

Antonio all but kneeled in front of the Italian now, taking the heavy book from the smaller man's hands. "Just a little one for boss, mi amor."

"..." Lovino gave him a critical look before puffing out his cheek and leaning forward to quickly peck the Spaniard's forehead who smiled brightly, reaching up and ruffling the lad's hair as he stood. "Of course I'll buy it for you!"

"Bene," Lovino replied, pushing Antonio towards the cashier. Tonio laughed, tucking it underneath his arm and continuing go glance through at the shelves lined with books.

"Ah! This would be a maravilloso gift for senor Kirkland!"

"Who cares about that bastardo?"

"We're getting gifts for all of our amigos!" Antonio declared, shifting the items he was holding around before picking up a book titled _Idiot's Guide to Cooking_.

"...idiota...buy the potato bastard some prosciutto."

Tonio blinked at him blankly. "...Por qué?" Lovino rolled his eyes and waved him off.

He frowned, watching Lovi again for a moment before shaking his head to himself and wandering off, immediately becoming sidetracked.

Lovino followed, tugging on Toni's sleeve, "Bello...I'm going to the next few shops over...I'll meet you for caffe later..."

Tonio's eyes widened, quickly kneeling down in front of Lovi with a hint of a pout. "Mi amor! Por qué son usted me dejando?"

"I'll be right back you idiot!" Lovino yelled.

"But Looooviiiiiiiiiii!"

"Just stay here!" Lovino snarled, rushing out of the shop.

"Por ?" Tonio cried after him, only to be ignored. Antonio continued to sulk around the bookstore before paying for his massive amount of items and then raced for the cafe, anxious to see his little amigo.

Lovino walked over to the table, "Did you order my caffe, bastardo pomodoro?"

"Mi amor! You've come back!" Tonio cried, throwing himself at Romano and wrapping his arms around his waist.

Lovi beat him with a box, "Get off, damnitt!"

"Ohhh, Lovi~ What'd you buy?"

"You can't have it yet!"

Antonio's emerald like eyes lit up, "Lovi! It's for me?"

"...Si..."

"Lo que eseeeeeeee?"

"You'll find out on Natale, idiota," Lovino huffed, sitting down.

Antonio leaned across the small, round table, propping his chin in his upturned hands. "Mi tomate pequeeeeñoooo~ Tell meeeee~"

"No."

Tonio huffed, taking a sip of his coffee. "Very well, mi pequeno amigo, I guess I won't give you what I got you~" Lovino pouted. Antonio reached across, entwining their fingers. "Tell meeeee~"

"No." A crumpled expression fell over Antonio's face as he leaned back in his chair once more, ego wounded.

Lovino puffed out his cheeks and scooted over to his Spaniard, "You only have to wait a few months, idiota..."

"But Looooooviiiiiiiiiiiii~" he whined.

Lovino pouted and gave the brunette a kiss to shut him up.

A huge smile was instantly plastered over the Spaniard's face as he beamed down at the grumpy little man.

"That's all you get til Christmas."


	5. Mittens

**A/N:**_ Once more, Wutaiflea and myself bring you a drabble, this time featuring a young Alfie and his Artie~_

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><p>Five year old Alfred F. Jones barreled into the small cottage that he lived in with Arthur Kirkland, his adopted father. "Artie!" he cried, racing into the living room, waving his short little arms around as if the world was going to Implode if he didn't immediately gain the Brit's attention.<p>

The Briton looked up from his newspaper in alarm, "Alfred? What is it, are you okay?"

The lad's bright blue eyes were as wide as saucers and he shook his head violently. "You're going to get totally mad at me!" he declared, climbing up onto the man's lap and snuggling into the warm chest, face and hands icy from being outside.

"Now, why would I do that, love?" Arthur asked, setting a hand on the boys head. "What did you get into this time?"

He dug into his coat pocket before nervously drawing out the special pair of mittens that Arthur had knit for him.

Arthur raised a brow and took the mittens, turning them over in his hands, revealing a number of holes and pulled threads, "What happened?"

"Lovi and I were playing war!" Alfie announced, practically vibrating in excitement.

"Were you now? Who won?" Arthur chuckled, setting the mittens aside and taking Alfred's two small hands in his own, rubbing them.

"I did! I told him that I would 'cause I'm American but then he called Americans stupid and said that I'm a bastard! I told him that I wasn't but then he said that I didn't know what that was and then I told him that _he_ didn't know what it was so he threw a snowball at me and then we started battling!"

Arthur sighed, "Oh poppet, you didn't trounce him too bad, did you? I will never hear the end of it from Antonio...and no doubt he will challenge me to a brawl..." He ruffled the boys hair fondly, "Regardless, you still need to get cleaned up, we will make you new mittens afterwards."

"But Artie, am I a bastard?" he asked with a pout.

"No, my darling, you're not," Arthur said, running his fingers through Alfred's tangled locks, "and neither is Lovino, so don't call each other such names. Tomorrow I want you boys to apologize to each other and make amends." He lifted the boy from his lap and set him on the ground, "Go take your bath."

"But what is it? Some big... two headed monster?" the child gaped. "With blue fur?"

The Englishman chuckled, patting the boys cheek, "Yes, a rather a large monster with blue fur and two heads, that comes and chases little boys that don't take their baths."

Alfred gasped, immediately scrambling out of the room. "I'M GOING TO TAKEIT RIGHT NOW!"

"That's a good lad," Arthur said, walking into the kitchen to make some hot tea.

Loud sounds came from the bathroom as Alfred got himself undressed, and then climbed into the filling tub, taking his cap-gun with him, 'just in case the bastard came to eat him'.

Arthur chuckled at the noise, preparing a basket of tomatoes for the Spaniard that would inevitably come over. Noisy splashing sounds began to issue from the bathroom as Alfred began to play submarine with his little toy boat and turtle, causing the Englishman to set down the basket and head to the bathroom with a couple more towels. He gave the door a soft knock before entering, "Poppet...?"

The tip of Nantucket poked out over the lip of the tub, moving from one side to the other as Alfred the sub completed his mission. Arthur rolled his eyes and sat down on a chair by the bath, rolling up his sleeves and reaching for the soap.

"Raaaaaaawr! Psh!Psh! BANG!" Alfie shouted, suddenly sitting upright and splashing water at Arthur, making missile launching noises. The Briton quickly brought up the towel to protect himself from the water. Alfred laughed, throwing himself over the edge and into Arthur's lap. "Got ya!"

"You've just been playing this entire time, haven't you?" Arthur smirked, scrubbing shampoo into the boy's hair.

Alfie grinned. "I'm Captain America!"

"Are you now?" The Brit smirked, washing the blonde locks free of soap.

Alfie squirmed as he was set back into the water, closing his eyes tight with a nod. "Uh-huh! I was hunting down Nazi subs!"

"Did you sink any, love?" Arthur asked, humoring him, "And kiss the pretty girl at the end?" He chuckled, soaping up a rag and scrubbing the boy clean.

"I shot down three hundred of them!" he announced, dodging the rag and launching himself into Arthur's lap again, pecking his lips. "Now I did!"

The Briton huffed, tickling Alfred's sides, "I'm not a girrrrlllll!"

Alfie laughed gleefully, squirming around to get away from those fingers. "But you're Arrrrrtiiiiiiie!"

"That doesn't make me a girl!" The blonde laughed, lifting up the boy and wrapping up in a towel.

"But you're preeeeetty"

"But I'm not a girl," Arthur repeated, drying Alfred's hair.

"Soooo?" Alfred pouted, making himself comfortable on the warm lap.

"So you need to kiss a pretty girl, not a pretty man," he replied, picking Alfred up and carrying him to his room.

"But I dun wanna kiss Liz!"

"Why not?"

"'Caaaaaaaause" he whined, wrapping his arms around Arthur's neck and resting his head on the man's shoulder. "How come heroes can't choose who we kiss?"

"You can, poppet," Arthur said, sitting on Alfred's bed.

"Then I wanna kiss Artie at the end!"

"But Alfred..." Arthur sighed, "Never mind, you'll understand later..." He nudged the boy off his lap and got up to find him some clean clothes.

Alfred tumbled onto his bed, sitting up and pulling his teddy bear onto his lap, playing with the handkerchief that he had tied around its neck as a cape. "But how come I cant? Artie's my hero!"

"Later, my dear," Arthur said, handing Alfred his clothes.

He huffed, laying back on his bed and stretching out. "I'm coooooold."

"Then get dressed," Arthur said, crossing his arms. Alfie pouted, shutting his eyes and pretending to go to sleep. Arthur scowled, and poked the young American's stomach, "Alfred...if I have to dress you, I'm putting you in a skirt."

The American sat upright immediately, clutching his stomach. "But I'm a dude!"

"Then act like one and get dressed," the blonde replied, walking out of the room. "Meet me in the study, I have something I want you to help me with."

"Dinner?" the eternally hungry boy called after.

"Not yet!" was the reply from downstairs.

Alfie huffed and got busy trying to dress himself, still having some difficulties with the different articles. He proudly tromped down seventeen minutes later with his shirt on backwards and pants buttons done lopsided.

Arthur snorted upon seeing him and waved him over, "Come here, darling..."

Alfie bounced over, immediately scrambling up onto his lap. "'sup?" The Briton promptly fixed his clothes. "What're ya doing?"

"You put your clothes on wrong, love..."

"...I did?"

Arthur pecked the boys nose before reaching for a basket, "Now...about those mittens..."

Alfie's face brightened. "What about em?"

"We're going to make you some new ones," Arthur murmured, pulling out his wool thread, "Now, what color do you want?"

"RED WHITE AND BLUE!Or army!"

Arthur chuckled, "Your last ones were army, so let's to the red, white and blue." He picked out the selected colors and reached for his knitting needles.

"Artie?"

"Yes, love?"

"Can you make me a Captain America costume?"

"What?" He asked, "Well...I suppose..."

Alfie beamed, leaning over the arm of the chair to pick one of his toy confederate soldiers up off the ground before leaning back against Arthur's chest. "...when can we go back?"

"To America?"

Alfie nodded, tilting his head to look back at Arthur quietly. "I dun really remember it..."

"You weren't yet two when we left..." Arthur gave him a small smile, "You really want to see your home, don't you?"

He nodded enthusiastically, turning around completely in Kirkland's lap so as to face him. "I wanna see my mommy and daddy when we go back!"

"Why?" Arthur looked down at him surprised, "I thought..."

"Thought what?" he asked, cutely tilting his head.

"What do you consider me?" Arthur asked hesitantly.

Alfie blinked, confused. "...you're Artie!"

"Yes...but...do you consider me a father, brother, uncle?"

The boy's little eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "You said that you ain't none of those…"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm confused, Engwash dude..."

"I'll track down your parents, Alfred..." Arthur sighed, pushing the boy off his lap gently and heading to the kitchen.

Alfred blinked at Arthur's back before running after him and catching his hand. "Uh-uh."

"?"

He tugged on his arm, trying to pull him back towards the living room. "Artie's my big brother. I don't need nobody else."

"Big brother, huh?" Arthur chuckled, bending to the boy's level.

"Ain't that what you wanna be?" he asked, his blue eyes burning into Arthur's green ones.

"It sounds...marvelous..." the blonde grinned, kissing Alfred's cheek, "Let's get those mittens done, hm?"


	6. The Christmas Star

**A/N:**_ Yesss, I know that America didn't use Christmas trees until 1850 or so.. Just bare with me, yes? Thank you~ This one was written by 9LRCenturion_

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><p>The date was December 24, 1775. It was the first Christmas that Alfred would be spending alone since he had declared independence from the British Empire and began this stupid war.<p>

The rebel, still but a boy, came slowly into his small cabin that night, draping his heavy over-coat over the back of a chair, a chair that he hand England had made together…

"_That's a good lad, you hold the drill over the circle we drew like this…" Arthur said, maneuvering ten year old Alfred's hands out of harms way before positioning them on the handle. "And then you begin to turn the handle… Do you see how it's making a hole?"_

"_Drop dead Engwand! This is awesome!"_

_Kirkland laughed, fondly ruffling the boy's hair once setting the drill down. "It's not magic, poppet…" he chuckled. "I'm sure you'll be a downright brilliant master at constructing such things when you're older." He said, leaning down to kiss Alfred's forehead before ushering him off to the wooden tub for a bath…_

Alfred stared at the chair for a moment more before shaking his head and heavily sitting down on his creaky bed, untying the tangled laces of his muddy boots. "Damn it, Arthur…" he sighed, laying back and rubbing his temples. "You're such a stupid ass sometimes…" he huffed, burying his face in the pillow as a loud crash of thunder sounded from above, the snow that had been falling all day turning into a cruel sleet.

The young nation sighed as he tiredly pushed himself to his feet, moving over to crouch in front of his fireplace, pushing the fading embers around and adding fuel until it sparked to life once more, spreading warmth into the cold room and trying to add a hint of joy to the dismal air.

Young Jones moved across the small, one room cabin to an opposing corner where a sad looking Christmas tree sat. In all reality, it was simply a young pine sapling that Alfred had cut down, having neither the time nor the energy to find a healthy looking one what with trying to command an entire army. The only reason he had put up a tree this year, was to make it feel a bit like Christmas…

_"Engwand! Engwand!" Little Alfie shouted excitedly as soon as he woke up, rolling over and clambering onto a still slumbering Arthur's chest. "It's today! Today! Wake up! Let's go!"_

_ Kirkland cracked a single green eye open, sleepily looking at the overjoyed nation's delighted face. "Hmmm? What is it, 'merica?" he asked through a wide yawn._

_ "You said we're gonna to bring a whole TREE into the house! I wanna get one that's three-hundred-fifty-six meters tall!"_

_ A thick eyebrow raised as Arthur reached up, ruffling the boy's hair. "Do you really think that would fit in here, lad?" he asked with a sleepy chuckle, pulling Alfred down into a big bear hug. _

_ "Totally!" Al declared, giggling as Arthur's fingers tickled his sides, causing him to squirm._

_ "Very well, love… we'll get a three-hundred meter tree…" Kirkland said, fondly kissing Alfred's nose. "Best get dressed in something warm first!"_

Jones picked up the old star that sat on the top of the scraggly tree, fingering it, thinking about how Arthur had given it to him their first Christmas together… "Why don't you understand?" he asked it, tenderly running his fingers over the carefully carved piece of wood, being careful of the fading yellow paint. "It's not 'cause I hate you…."

Another loud clap sounded from outside, the wind picking up to a strength that whipped the trees to and fro like rag dolls. A dark silhouette stepped away from where it had been hidden behind a tree, watching the lad through the window, making its slow way back towards British territory…


	7. The War Veteran

**A/N:**_ I wrote this one as well... it didn't come out as well as I had hoped, but I wanted to do something in honour of Pearl Harbor (December 7, 1941). Aaaand I was writing this in a rush before I have to go to work. Soooo... enjoy ^^; Oh, and it's Christmas themed because it's in December. So there. *nods confidently*  
><em>

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><p>Eighty-five year old Alfred F Jones slowly walked up the steps to the platform, a wrinkled hand holding onto the railing to keep himself steady.<p>

"Next, we're honouring Staff Sergeant Alfred 'Hero' F. Jones, an Ace that shot down sixteen Zeros as well as twenty-eight German planes in air combat, as well as served three years as a POW in a Nazi concentration camp…" Alfred tuned the announcer out, standing behind him and looking out into the crowd filled with both old and young faces. The audience began applauding as the speaker's speech came to an end and he turned to smile at Alfred, ushering him forward

The war veteran stepped forward, resting his arms on the podium and leaning forward, glancing at the remaining vets that were sitting in the front row before grinning with a light laugh.

"Sup dudes? Who woulda thought that we'd still be here in 2011?" several of the older men clapped, raising a few cheers and whistles from the crowd. "Well… they told me ta write a speech, but I ain't never been good at that sorta thing, so I just decided not to." Alfred continued with a wink.

"Ain't that the truth!" one of the men shouted, bringing a louder laugh from the audience.

Alfred laughed as well with a nod, reaching up to adjust the microphone. "Well.. today's the day that the Japs bombed us at Pearl Harbor… bringing us into the war. Many of us lost friends and family that day, giving us the motive to join the Air Corps and military. Richard Lynch, a guy I was in basic training with, lost his twin brother on a patrol boat that day. He never forgave himself for letting him join the Navy without him. I had been in Hawaii that day because I had been put on the wrong plane to go to a new family across the country that were gonna 'adopt' me ta help with work on their ranch." Alfred broke off here to laugh. "I guess it was a bit to my advantage… they were so desperate for men to fight right after the attack, that they didn't take a good look at my records to realize that I was only fifteen at the time.

Now, they asked me to talk about what I went through at the POW camp, what it was like to fight, blah blah blah. But do I really gotta? We all know what they did at those camps, dude, a lot of you guys were there even and don't wanna think about it. If I had my way, _all_ of you would be up here with me since we all helped America win! What we gotta do today is remember the comrades that we lost, and the families we protected and got because of them. Mattie! Are you here?" he called, pushing his glasses further up his nose and leaning forward, looking of the audience with squinted eyes.

A smaller elderly gentleman sitting in the smack center of the front row raised a cane up into the air. "Alfred… I'm right here…" he said in a soft, quiet voice.

"Oh! Didn't see ya there! Well, Mattie here was my navigator, he got married to a French chick a year after the war ended and had nine kids, and now has… how many was it? Twenty-one grandbabies and three great-grand kids?"

"Six…" the Canadian said quietly, his aged face turning a hinge of pink. The surrounding men laughed, as well as Alfred.

"Six! Dude, you've been busy! He even named one o' them after me!" he announced proudly. "I never got married.. But I like to think that I did my part by protecting the families living in America…" he smiled, growing quiet for a moment as he looked out over the crowd, seeing the face of a British officer in his mind's eye. An officer that he had stayed by the side of all these years after the war and then cruel fate had struck, taking Agent Arthur Kirkland away from him two years before…

Alfred smiled weakly, clearing his throat as he pulled off his glasses, taking an old embroidered handkerchief out of his bomber jacket pocket and cleaning the lens carefully. "Well…." He began, voice cracking. "There really ain't anything ta say… Oh! I'm havin' a barbeque at the park after this! Burgers and beer!"

"Of course you're having burgers!" one of the men shouted with a deep chuckle.

"Dude! Burgers are the best!" Alfred shouted back with his charming grin before standing up straight.

"Just remember…. Integrity first. Service before self. Excellence in all we do." Several of the men cheered loudly, for a moment feeling like the young men they had once been, soaring through the skies with only one ambition. To protect their homes, their freedom, their families, their country. To save America.

"Virtute alisque*…"

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><p><em>*Virtute alisque: "On wings with courage." The motto for the 103rd Fighter Squadron. Just thought it sounded like something he'd say.<em>


End file.
